


The Woman I Lost and Love.

by themysteriousashe



Category: British Actor RPF, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, trigger warning ?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 19:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7727170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themysteriousashe/pseuds/themysteriousashe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look into why Tom Hiddleston is a man who cannot love anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Woman I Lost and Love.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first try at first person and my first try at a little AU type thing. I got inspired by a song and just felt like writing something angsty. 
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcomed! Also, telling me your feelings on the story is welcomed. I'm sorry if it's messy or rushed. I just wanted to quickly get out the idea and make it short.

It had been five years since she had passed away. I had lost everything that day. My soul, my well being, my ability to truly love. She was ripped away from me, whether it was intentional or unintentional. I lost two persons that day: myself and her. She was so beautiful, always lighting a smile on my face with her voice or smile. She reassured me when times were tough, encouraging me to go on and never stop till I achieved my goal. It was after the filming of the first Thor film things seemed to go down. It was as if Fate was warning me of the day she had to take away my true love in life, (y/f/n). I haven’t forgiven myself since the accident.

(y/f/n) passed away on a rainy, March evening. We were driving home from a restaurant, celebrating the success of accomplishing the film. We were staying out of the public eye, not wanting to be seen. We wanted to relax, letting the hype surrounding the movie continue to grow. I didn’t know how big I would grow to become at the time, but I think she did. I think she knew of the success I would have behind the film. I could see it in her eyes whenever she talked about it. The little sparkle of excitement my career brought reassured me I chose the right partner in life. I had proposed to her on my birthday a couple years back, and we had been married, a son on the way.

(y/f/n) was into the first week of being nine months pregnant. The baby would be coming any day now, and I was ecstatic to say the very least. I couldn’t wait for this. I couldn’t wait for the family we would be having. I didn’t know how far my career would go, but I knew I wanted to do my best to involve my wife and son into my life. She never liked the spotlight, going for a medical career instead. We had met in the first year of theatre school. She attended the year alongside me, soon dropping out to go to study medicine in an actual university. I never blamed her, and remained in contact. It led to dating, soon engagement, and now, happily married for a year and a half with a baby about to be born.

Me, being the gentleman I ever so was, had helped her out of her chair, slipped her coat on her shoulders, held the door open for her, and held the umbrella on the way to the car. We talked and walked as we went to the parking lot, her continuing the story of what the dog had done that day. Apparently, the dog had gone into the garbage while she was preparing her lunch. Upon being yelled at, it freaked out and took the small lid to the bathroom garbage with it, running around the house frightened. She had to be careful and run after the dog, soon freeing it from it’s miniature trap. I could remember the laugh that ripped itself from my throat. It was a true laugh; a laugh containing such humor and amusement from the situation.

We finally made our way to the car, (y/f/n) having a gentle hand on her rather large stomach. I held the umbrella over her door, opening it for her once the keys of my car were slipped back into my pocket. I waited patiently, admiring her facial expressions as she slipped in. She was beautiful whatever she did, even if it was something negative. I admired and adored her greatly. I was happy to continue on with her, and I believe the both of us knew it. It was as if destiny brought us together for a reason, probably because we were good together.

I made my way over to my door after I closed hers, watching her for a second as she attended to putting on her seat belt. I opened my door, shaking out the umbrella and closing it, and slipping in after. The door was closed with my left hand, the umbrella being slipped gently in the back seat with my right hand. I turned around, putting my seat belt on, and pulling out my keys from my pocket after. I slipped them into the ignition, and listened the car purr to life as my hand searched in the darkness for hers. I felt the soft, angelic hand, bringing it to my lips and having my left hand on the wheel. I pulled out of the parking lot.

“I love you,” I remembered her whispering to me as we drove. She had waited a couple minutes till we were stopped at a light. I remember whispering “I love you too. I love you to the moon and back.” back to her. When the light signaled for us to go, I did so. I drove smoothly and gently, not knowing what was about to happen. When I was halfway in the intersection, a car came from the direction (y/f/n)’s door was, speeding when it had no business to go. It hit the car hard, making it spin and go into the middle of traffic. I had gone unconscious for a moment, the impact so hard and shock getting to me. I opened my eyes, everything a blur.

Sirens had sounded in the distance while blood slid down my forehead. My first priority was to check on her. I needed her to be okay. I looked over, seeing her in her seat, bleeding. I tried calling out her name, my lips parting but not a sound coming out. I tried again until I finally croaked her name. I could hear the panicked and worried voices of standbys as I reached towards her. I felt pain, but I ignored it. My hand enveloped around her wrist, feeling her pulse faint. I paled more than I was, and felt myself getting worked up.

We had help fast, freeing the both of us from the car in a matter of minutes. We were both taken in separate ambulances, as much as I wanted to be with her. I feared for her life and the baby. I feared the worse and I didn’t want to fear the worse. When we were brought to the hospital, she was rushed to undergo surgery. I was patched up, my arm put in a splint and sling, soon requiring some stitches. I had to be put under anesthetic, to clean everything and get it all taken care of.

While I was under a sleep, I worried. I knew I worried because my wife, child, and world were probably taken from me. When I was awake a few hours after, I was told of what I feared most. I lost my wife in the crash, but the child was saved. I had a son, but no loving mother to help me take care of it. When I learned what had become of my darling (y/f/n), I broke down and cried. Friends and family had come while I slept, my sister, Emma, sitting in the corner of the room, watching me cry. When the doctor left, she came over and hugged me ever so tightly. I wept and wept and wept. My world was taken, while I still had a piece of it hanging on a thread.

As I wept, I knew I had to step up and try to take care of my son. I knew I wanted to say my last goodbyes as well. I was broken in so many ways, and knew it was something very difficult to recover from. Our son was brought in when I was capable of handling to see him, and Emma had to hold him for me. He was so beautiful, but I cried when I saw him. There was too much of her in him, but it was a good thing. At the same time, it was a bad thing. I knew my heart would ache for quite awhile, but as I have lived on, the heartache doesn’t actually go away. It remains with someone for eternity, and it’s hard to mend.

When my son was placed back in the nursery and I was allowed to get up and walk, I immediately showered and changed my clothes. I wouldn’t have to be here, but I would wait for my son to come home. I had Emma take me to see her. I wondered if her family had been informed, but I had a feeling they had. It wouldn’t surprise me if they had been told already. I walked sadly to the morgue of the hospital, knowing they were waiting on me to take her home. She was so beautiful, even in death.

Everything took a matter of days to prepare for (y/f/n). I made sure to make everything perfect, while drowning in my own depression. When our son was able to come home, I made sure to take care of him, loving him with all of my heart. When it was the day of the funeral, I was at the very front to take her casket to and from the church, and to the graveyard where she was buried. I wept the whole time, even when I had to give a speech about my beautiful girl. It pained me so much to do this so young, especially to her. I wanted to go with her. I didn’t want her to go alone.

I lost it when we got to the cemetery. Watching as her casket was lowered in, I wanted to fling myself down in the dirt with her, but I didn’t. I watched, tears falling down my cheeks, as she was lowered more and more. Flowers were thrown on her casket instead of dirt, and I remained until nightfall. I stood there, shocked and sad. My life, my love, my soul, and my heart were taken away that day.

I, Tom Hiddleston, stood a lonely man, with a son I couldn’t provide a mother for. These memories still haunt me to this day. My son is growing up big, but my darling isn’t here. I visit her as much as I can, always filling the gloomy grave with flowers. She deserves anything beautiful, even in death. I was just glad the last words I could tell her was that I loved her. She deserved hearing that more than anything.

**Author's Note:**

> I cried while writing this.


End file.
